Wanted
by AlexSnape-36
Summary: She sighs with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Have you ever just not wanted to be found?" "Every day," He says, turning his face away from her, but not before she saw the grimace of pain on his face. "Do you want to get lost with me?" She whispers, placing her hand on the side of his face and forcing him to look at her again.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize probably doesn't belong to me. All Harry Potter factors present in this story legally belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making money off of this. If I was I'd be able to afford a place to live.

Chapter 1: Just Tonight

Emilie was hidden behind the bushes in Midtown Park, down the road from her parents' house. It wasn't that she didn't want to see them, but lately it seemed like all they ever did was fight. They criticized everything she did. The only time she was ever able to find any sort of peace was here, behind these bushes, looking up at the night sky. Or there was hunting for her next target…but mostly it was the night sky. Emilie preferred the title of huntress over that of assassin. There was something about the look of surprise on the faces of her enemies when they realized who had defeated them…something about it that gave her a very satisfied feeling. They had a tendency to underestimate her. But there was nothing more relaxing that looking up at the stars.

"'ello, pet." A slightly slurred voice greets her, jerking her from her thoughts. It was a rare occurrence when someone could actually sneak up on her, let alone a drunk.

"What do you want?" She snaps, instinctively defensive.

He stumbled into a comfortable sitting position next to her and she quickly moved to her knees to gain the upper hand.

"Well, let's see 'ere, beau'iful. Wha' do I want? 'Ow about all the treasures kept secre' at Gringott's, a beau'iful woman naked in a king sized bed, all the firewhiskey in the city, an' a 'ouse big enough to 'old it all?"

"Who do think I am? Your fairy godmother?" She throws at him, studying his slouched form. He was obviously drunk and probably not a threat to her. His light brown hair hung in a mess around his smooth face. He had the prettiest blue-grey eyes she had ever seen, and they were emphasized by a dark eyeliner that encircled them. He looked a little odd with his black combat boots, tight plaid pants, and brown leather vest underneath his long dark jacket. But it was odd in a pleasant way. A nice change from the wizarding robes most people she knew wore. It looked like something she would wear.

"Unfortunately, pet, I don't 'ave a fairy godmother. Was pure luck tha' I stumbled into a witch as lovely as yourself." He replied easily, completely overlooking her hostile tone of voice before turning away from her and gagging into the bushes.

Emilie hesitated, but after a moment she sighed and moved to pull the hair out of his face. It took a couple of minutes for him to recover and pull back away from her. "Well, damn. I don' suppose you're the sor' of girl who thinks a sick drunk is someone to strip for, are you?"

"Not likely," She fights back a smirk, secretly amused by his attitude.

"Give me a bit. You'll change your mind…Don't suppose you 'ave a soberin' potion either, do you?" He asks, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"I don't make a habit of needing them," She answers simply.

"Tha's alrigh'. I just lost 'alf the alcohol in my system anyways." He groans, rearranging himself into a more comfortable position.

"What's your name?" Emilie asks curiously.

"The name is Scabior, an' I'm at your service. Well, 'spose not yet, but before the night's over you could experience the ecstasy of the services I provide, if you want, lovely?"

"You don't even know who I am." She objects, rolling her eyes.

"Wha's your name?"

"Emilie,"

"Now tha' I know you're Emilie, tha' whole 'I don' know who you are' bit is fixed. Wha' do you say now? You want to take me 'ome?" he grins playfully.

She laughs, shaking her head. She'd never met anyone so forward.

Emilie froze as familiar voice reached her ears from the other side of the bushes. She stealthily peeked over them and groaned when she caught sight of her mother. Looking for her no doubt. Emilie looked back at Scabior, studying him. She was a bit turned off by his drunkenness, but he was attractive. Much more attractive than the thought of being found by her mother.

"I have a better idea," She answers him, tilting her head to the side as she put her hand on his, "Why don' you take me home with you?"

"You're 'iding from someone," He says, much to her surprise. "Why?"

"How observant." She sighs with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "Have you ever just not wanted to be found?"

"Every day," He says, turning his face away from her, but not before she saw the grimace of pain on his face.

Maybe there was a reason behind his excessive drinking. "Do you want to get lost with me?" She whispers, placing her hand on the side of his face and forcing him to look at her again.

"'elp me up and I can apparates us back to my place," He answers with a grin.

"I think you may be a bit too drunk to apparate," She frowns. She'd seen firsthand how badly a botched apparation could turn out.

"I've apparated with more alcohol in my system than this, pet. Trust me. I can get us 'ome." He insists, struggling to his feet.

She hesitated as he held out his hand to her. He'd thrown up, but his eyes didn't look glazed over and he was stumbling as badly as she'd expected him to. "Alright, but only for tonight."

"We'll see abou' tha'. You won't be able to get enough of me, love." He laughs, pulling her into him and apparating with a loud pop.

There was the usual sensation of being pulled through a tight hole, but after a moment they landed alright, still on their feet. They were standing next to a small Victorian house on the edge of town. Thankfully, she thought, nowhere near where her parents lived.

"Don' be shy," He urged her, taking a step back but not letting go of her hand as he started towards the door.

"This is your house?" She asks in surprise. It was nicer than she had expected. It looked old and a little worn. There were vines growing up the sides, but the age and the vines just made it more attractive to her. It wasn't what she was used to. She could get lost here for a while.

"Not too shabby, is it? Nicer on the inside than out 'ere." He assures her, opening the door with a wave of his wand and allowing her to step inside ahead of him. He came in behind her and the door clicked as it snapped shut.

She turned into him and moved her lips closer to his. He still smelled like firewhiskey. She put her hand on his chest and he covered it with his but clicked his tongue and kept her from getting any closer. "I'm not one to disappoint, love. I'm not currently in righ' state to make a proper seduction. I'm going to show you to the parlor, and then I'm goin' to clean myself up. Do you need anything in the mean time? Firewhiskey? Brandy?"

"What do you want from me?" She asks lightly.

"Only to please you," He answers seductively, pulling her hips into his. He grinned before turning her around to face a short corridor, "This way."

He led her to a small room with large sofa and a flickering fireplace that had a fur rug spread out in front of it. "I'll only a moment," He promises, "Make yourself comfortable." He disappeared down the corridor as she settled herself on the sofa and took in her surroundings.

His house felt dark, but not the bad kind. The comforting kind that held, protecting you from the light as you tried to sleep. Two of the walls were lined with bookshelves and the others were a dark mahogany color. It was the bookshelves that piqued her curiosity and she got up to examine them. They were all well-kept tombs, some of which were in different languages. She could tell that many of them concerned the dark arts. A few others were potions books or charms books. She ran her hand over a book written in French and froze a she felt a hand on her waist. Her instinct was to knock whoever had grabbed her from behind off their feet, but she fought it and slowly turned to face Scabior. He had gotten rid of most of his clothing, wearing only a thin black, log sleeved button up shirt and his plaid pants now. She was also pleased to find that he no longer smelled like throw up firewhiskey.

"Wha' do you think now tha' I'm not a sick drunk?" He asked playfully.

She laughs, "I'm wondering when you're going to live up to what you implied you could do," She teases.

He smiled for a moment before tilting his head at her. "Wha' are you runnin' away from?"

"Who said I was running away from anything?" She counters, slightly defensive.

"I found you 'iding behind some bushes, an' you didn't agree to go 'ome with me until you caught sight of someone you didn' wan' to see." He points out.

"Does it matter?" Emilie asks him, placing her hands on his chest and sliding them down to the edge of his pants.

"No…I 'spose not." He agrees, sounding a bit breathless as a bulge formed in his pants.

"You're still wearing too many clothes," She points out, pushing him back towards the sofa.

"Take them off me," He teases, presses his lips against her ear as his legs hit the back of the sofa. He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth to his in a hard, pleading kiss. He was looking for something in her. Comfort? Companionship? She wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to find it if he expected it to last more than one night. She could give in tonight. Only tonight. And she meant to make the most of it.

She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off of him before reaching down to his pants. He slipped his hand underneath hers and reached up to unclasp her bra, cupping her breast in his hand and brushing his fingernail over her nipple. She gasped, pulling her shirt up over her head and letting the bra drop off her arms, exposing herself to him.

"Tha's it, pet," He breathed, dropping his mouth down to her breast and grazing her nipple with his teeth, "I'll make it worth your while."

Her hands slipped over his back and up into his hair as she let her head fall back in pleasure. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to just feel him. His lips moved to her other breast as his hands found her pants and pushed them down. They fell to her ankles and he turned her around and pushed her back onto the sofa. She brushed her fingers over the bulge in his pants and he groaned, pressing back against her.

"Take them off me," He repeated, his voice growing low and husky in a way that made her almost dizzy with desire. She wasted no time in obliging him and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, stroking him.

He groaned and grabbed at her knickers, the only thing left blocking him from what he wanted. He pulled them down her hips and let her kick them off before pressing his fingers into the heat between her legs. She was ready for him.

"Scabior," She gasped, spreading her legs wider apart and arching up into him.

He laughed softly, "Didn' I tell you tha' you wouldn' be able to get enough of me"

"Shut up and take me," She demands, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his lips back to hers in a deep kiss. He slipped the tip of his tongue into her mouth and allowed it to dance with hers as he positioned himself at her entrance.

"Is this what you want?" He teases, playfully.

"More," She breathed, pressing against him so that the tip of him slid into her. His eyes grew dark and he growled softly before thrusting up into her. She held his gaze, loving the way his eyes had clouded over. He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size. She was tight around him and it was the best he'd felt in a long time. He couldn't hold himself back for long, and soon he'd found a rhythm. She moved against him, slipping her hands down to his lower back and urging him to go faster, deeper. He lost control, pounding into her frantically until his eyes flickered shut as a wave of ecstasy flew through him and into her. He inner muscles tightened around his shaft in a climax and she held him to her tightly, as though she were afraid he would disappear. He pressed his forehead against hers and grinned. They were slick with sweat, and he was just getting started.

"You, love, are a beau'iful naked woman, but you're not in my bed…yet." He laughed.

"You can go more than once?" She asked in surprise, "Don't you need to rest?"

"We're jus' getting started, pet. Didn' I promise to make this worth your while?" He pointed out, getting to his feet and helping her stand. She was still a little shaky from what had just occurred between them.

"Show me your bedroom," She demands seductively, moving her mouth close to his and cupping his balls in her hand, "I'll make it worth your while,"

"Vixen," He growls, taking her hand and quickly leading her in the direction of his private chambers. She wouldn't be the first witch who'd found their way into his bed, but none of them suited him for long afterwards. She was different. He was going to keep this one.

* * *

Scabior groaned as his eyes flickered open, slowly adjusting to the light streaming in through the window. Heated memories from the night before flooded his mind and sent sparks straight towards his groin. He closed his eyes again, rolling over and reaching for the witch who had somehow branded herself into his mind rather than just onto his body. When his hand found nothing but cold morning air his eyes shot open and he quickly sat up, looking around the room for her. She was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Please review!

The wand was pressed tightly to Emilie's throat and she stared down at it as though it offended her. Which it did. "Now is that any way to treat a woman?" She sneers at her adversary before spinning her hips and planting her foot in his stomach.

The wizard stumbled back, temporarily dazed by the unexpected form of attack. Most witches and wizards dueled solely with their wands and wit. Not with a muggle form of attack. She took advantage of his surprise and swished her wand towards his feet. Chains erupted from her wand and he jumped to the side just in time to avoid them. "I'm not going back to Azkaban! Crucio!" He declares, sending an unforgivable straight towards her chest.

She barely managed to block it and her latest target took off running while simultaneously casting protection charms over himself.

"Stupefy!" She shouts after him, even though she knew it would just bounce off at this point. She was about to take off running but a hand on her arm pulled her attention. She quickly turned her wand on whoever had dared to distract her while she was working.

Scabior put his hands up, unarmed, indicating that he meant no harm. He grinned as her eyes widened.

"You?" She snaps in annoyance, quickly turning back to what she was doing. Before she could take a step further, her target apparated.

"Who was tha', love? 'E looked scared. Remind me to never piss you off." Scabior asks playfully, lowering his hands.

"I would say it's a little late to remind you not to piss me off. Someone should have done that five minutes ago. What are you doing here, Scabior?" Emilie snaps. Fury swelled up inside of her just at the thought of the smugness her target must be feeling at having escaped her. She couldn't remember the last time she lost one that had been standing right in front of her.

"I was lookin' for you. You left before I woke up." Scabior points out, as though it were obvious.

"And your point is?" Emilie presses impatiently, glancing back over to where her target had apparated. She couldn't go chasing him in front of Scabior. Her organization had strict rules about the anonymity of its employees. Chasing down You-Know-Who's followers that had escaped the original round up that had put many of them back into Azkaban was dangerous business, and those over her head were always vigilant about ensure the tables weren't turned on them. If the deatheaters on the run knew exactly who was attempting to track and apprehend them, there were enough followers left out there that they could form their own little tag team and attempt to take out the aurors working against them. It was public knowledge that the department had been formed for this sole purpose, as most of the other aurors were busy simply with the task of restoring peace to the wizarding world and attempting to lessen the tension and make the citizens feel safe again. However, the identities of the aurors themselves were kept secret. Emilie liked it that way. It always surprised her targets when they realized who she worked for. They weren't supposed to get away and have a chance to identify her to others. He wouldn't have been so much trouble if her partner had actually bothered to show up. And Scabior hadn't interrupted her.

"Who said I was finished?" He answers seductively, moving closer to her.

"You did when you fell asleep," Emilie counters easily, taking a step back from him. He smelled nice and it took a lot of resolve for her to be able to look him in the eye and not want to go back with him, but now was definitely not the time for that.

"Even a bloke with my prowess needs 'is rest, pet."

"Needs rest for what?" A light, female voice asks curiously.

Emilie welcomed the distraction as she turned on her heel to face her partner. "Where were you? You were supposed to meet me three hours ago!" Hannah was a few inches taller than me and had broader shoulders, but she was fit. Her dark brown eyes always drooped in a way that made her look like she was about to fall asleep, but she was always alert. She had dark blonde hair that fell to her shoulder blades in waves. She had 'intimidation' written all over her, where as I was always the one underestimated, with my smaller build, green eyes and dark auburn hair. We made a pretty good team when she bothered to show up on time.

"Who's your friend?" She asks, suddenly suspicious.

"No one. He was just leaving." Emilie says pointedly, turning back to face him.

"Was I?" He grins, raising his eyebrows at her, "I 'ad no clue."

"I'm really busy," She insists.

"Alrigh', when will you not be busy?" He pushes, determined.

Emilie sighs. She wasn't going to get rid of him until she agreed to meet with him. "I know where you live. I'll stop by later and we'll talk."

"It's a deal," He agrees, a smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth. His gaze flickers over to Hannah, "'Ave a nice day, pets."

"I'm not a pet," Hannah snaps at him, but he just laughs as he turns on his heel and apparates.

"Who was that?" She demands again, once she was sure he was gone.

"I met him when I was out for a walk yesterday. It's nothing you need to be concerned about. Do you want to tell me why you didn't show up for work this morning?" Emilie asks, still annoyed with her.

"I was at work. I was just pursuing an alternate method of tracking Xanthus." She explains, referring to the target by his surname.

"An alternate method that doesn't involve working with your partner?" Emilie replies heatedly.

"Did you catch him?"

"No, he got away. But you could have bothered to let me know what was going on, rather than just leaving me on my own today." Emilie points out.

"Look, one of us had to be out looking for him, just in case my idea fell through. Now, you can stay mad at me, or we can go get a drink together while my genius does all the hard work for us? Drinks are on me." She offers, trying to make amends.

"We can't drink; we're supposed to be working." Emilie objects.

"My contact won't be back to me until tomorrow, and you know how the boss likes for us to focus on one target at a time. We have nothing to but sit around and wait." Hannah insists.

"Contact?" She questions, narrowing her eyes at Hannah, "What about protecting our identities?"

"He's trust worthy. Everything is alright. Besides, if we chase after the target now that he's expecting us to, he could lead us into a trap."

Emilie hesitated, but Hannah had made a good point. It wouldn't help anything to attempt to follow his apparation trail and stumble into a trap. "Alright, but just one drink."

"Great! I know just the place!" Hannah replies excitedly, grabbing Emilie's arm and apparating them to a small, but crowded pub somewhere close to Diagon Alley.

* * *

Scabior slipped through the trees, his eyes scanning the woods around him. He knew Xanthus would be there. It was where they had agreed to meet.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, I see." His lazy voice met Scabior's ears with a prick of irritation.

"I fraternize with everyone, Xanthus. You know tha'" Scabior grins at him. "Tha' was a close one. 'Ow'd you get yourself into a bind like tha'? You're lucky I was there to get you out."

"I was lucky?" Xanthus answers suspiciously, "It seems a little odd to me that I've managed to avoid them ever since the Dark Lord's downfall, and the first time they almost catch me, you show up, Scabior."

"I don't think I like much wha' you're implying, Xanthus. I'd watch myself if I were you." Scabior threatens, towering over him.

"Or what? You'll get your auror friend after me? Not if we get her first, Scabior." Xanthus grins.

"What do you mean we?" Scabior demands, "We agreed to lay low until they backed off us."

Xanthus presses his fingers to his lips, "Did I say that? Oops, I meant 'I'."

Scabior grabs the front of Xanthus' shirt and slams him back into a tree, "What are you hiding?"

Xanthus laughs, "Me? I'm not hiding anything. Just that not all of us agree with your little plan of playing hide and seek with the ministry."

"Alrigh', then let them challenge me for authority. But you leave 'er out of this." Scabior orders, letting Xanthus go as he flexed his shoulders. He hadn't known she was an auror when he'd met her, and truth be told there was nothing in a one night stand that he couldn't replace. But there was something about her that he'd become rather fond of in a very short time.

"There's a new faction in wizarding world, Scabior. I'd tell your little auror friend to watch out if I were you." Xanthus advises him, rubbing his chest where Scabior had grabbed at him.

Before Scabior could reply, Xanthus apparated away from him. Scabior took off towards his house. He had to speak to his small band of snatchers before he got in over his head. If there was someone brewing trouble, he needed to figure out who was on his side and who wasn't.

* * *

Emilie leaned back in her chair as she looked around the pub Hannah had chosen. It was crowded enough that she couldn't see the bar where Hannah had gone to get their drinks, but it wasn't one of the safer ones. It wasn't one she herself would have chosen, but she supposed she shouldn't have been that surprised. It was Hannah that she was with.

Hannah sat two mugs of firewhiskey on either side of the table before slumping down in the seat across from her and crossing her legs. "Drink up, my friend. This could be our only day off this week."

"It's not a day off if you spend the entire morning working," Emilie points out, taking a long drink of the firewhiskey that Hannah had chosen for her. She wasn't all that fond of the drink, but it helped relax her.

"Good point, but here's to the rest of it being slow and quiet." Hannah offered, taking a drink out of her own glass.

"So why this pub?" Emilie asked curiously, frowning at her drink. It was stronger than she remembered.

Hannah shrugs, "I came here on a date once."

"It must have been an awful date." Emilie comments, casually, studying their surroundings. The place wasn't all that clean, and neither were most of the people.

"He was an awful boyfriend; his mother hated me just because I was a little rough around the edges." Hannah answers, holding Emilie's gaze as though she were trying to make some kind of point."

Emilie took another drink out of her mug, and before she could reply an owl flew in through the door and landed in front of Hannah, holding out its leg for her.

"Who's that from?" Emilie asks curiously, as Hannah untied the letter and the tawny owl flew away. Emilie's eyes blurred over and she pressed the palms of her hands into them, trying to stay focused.

"My contact." Hannah says. Her eyes scanned the letter before she shoved it into her pocket. "It looks like he had a breakthrough faster than I expected. Come on, let's go." She took another long drink of her firewhiskey as Emilie stood up and immediately stumbled into the table.

Hannah grabbed her arm with a look of concern on her face. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. I'll be better once I get out of here. Let's go," Emilie answers, shaking her head to clear it and refocus herself.

"Good," Hannah smiles, following Emilie out of the pub.

"Where are we going?" Emilie asks, turning to face her partner. The cool air brushed against her face and helped to clear the fogginess from her mind, but it seemed determined to keep coming back.

"This way," Hannah says, taking Emilie's arm and leading her down the street.

Emilie's eyes blurred over again and she stumbled. "Wait…Hannah," She starts, but Hannah kept pushing her forward, refusing to let her stop, "I'm not going to be of any use like this." The ground spun beneath her and she swayed, stumbling into Hannah again.

Hannah shoved her away, back into an alley way as three dark figures appeared out of the shadows. Emilie's eyes were too blurry to be able to focus on them and her heart started racing as she gripped her wand tightly. "Exp...elliar...mus!" She attempts to disarm them, but her voice falters as she falls back onto the ground, "Hannah!" She groans weakly, feeling hand grasp her wrists and ankles before she passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Please review, and a big thank you to those who already have!

_They had found her…just like she knew they would. It had only been a matter of time, really. She had always known that she wouldn't be able to avoid the deatheaters forever. Here, stripped of the majority of her clothing and strapped down to this wooden table like a piece of meat up for slaughter…this was where she would end. They would kill her. Just like they had Aria. Her baby sister. It had all been her fault. She had chosen to court darkness, not Aria. Aria had always been the good daughter. The innocent one. Emilie was the emotionally driven rebel who had made the decision to follow her heart even though everyone had warned her against the decisions she had been making. It was her fault that Aria was dead, and it was only fitting that she be killed the same way Aria had. _

_Deatheaters surrounded her as she struggled to catch her breath. Her body shook as it struggled to recover from the effects of enduring the cruciatus curse for an extended period of time. Phantom spasms of pain were still shooting through her, even though she knew they had momentarily let up on the curse. She could clearly hear them arguing, but her traumatized mind was unable to process what they were saying. All she could do was wait for it to end, and hope that in the afterlife, she would be given the chance to tell Aria everything she'd failed to tell her while they were alive. That she loved her. That she had always secretly envied her. That she was sorry._

_She cried out in pain as the cords that bound her wrists and ankles were jerked off and her body was lifted into the air. Even breathing hurt now. She was ready for it to end. She wanted it to end. Emilie forced herself to stare at them. She wanted to see the flash of green light. She deserved to have to watch them kill her, knowing there was no way she could escape them now. But instead of the death curse that she had expected, the Dark Lord vanished into thin air. One by one the others followed, until it was only her and the deatheater that was floating her over the ground. Taking her away from the table where she was supposed to die. _

_Her surroundings faded into darkness as she woke from one nightmare and immediately entered into another. It was dark in…wherever she was. It was cold and damp and dark. She could still feel the phantom pains shooting through her body and the cold stone floor was filthy and wet beneath her bare feet. The simple silk dress she had on was pink and clingy. Nothing like what she would normally wear. She had no clue where she was, let alone how she got there. Emilie shivered as the clammy air caressed her skin, leaving goose bumps behind. She had no wand…and something was moving within the shadows that surrounded her. It was always just beyond her line of sight, but her instincts, that subtle fear that pressed down within her, told her she wasn't alone. _

_A deep, snarling growl pierced her ears as an enormous grey wolf stepped out of the darkness in front of her. Its razor sharp teeth were bared and drool was oozing out of the corner of its mouth. Fear shot through Emilie. Her heart raced as she slowly took a step back, thinking that maybe if she moved slowly enough she could avoid startling it and causing it to grow even more hostile. The wolf snarled at her as it leapt through the air. It claws slashed at her legs as she turned and ran down a corridor so dark that she could barely see two feet in front of her. Everything was moving in slow motion and her legs felt like weights holding her down. An arm grabbed her from behind and she whirled around, prepared to defend herself until all hope was lost. She wouldn't go down without a fight. He had taught her that._

_But instead of a wolf, she came face to face with a familiar figure that she hadn't seen in years. Relief and a sudden sense of safety flooded through her at the sight of him. "Liam!" She breathed. Just a few inches taller than her with shortish dark hair slicked back out of is soft face. He still had the same piercing blue eyes that she remembered from long ago, eyes that reminded her of something she couldn't quite put her finger on…but his usual devilish smile was replaced with a look of dread. "Don't trust her." He warned, his voiced echoing as though it were coming from far away._

"_Don't trust who?" She tried to ask. Her lips moved but no sound came out as his figured faded like a ghost. Her surroundings melted away into darkness. _

Emilie slowly blinked open her eyes as the dreams slowly began to fade. The first was part of a memory that she wished she didn't have, but her mind grasped at the second, struggling to retain what parts of it she could. There was something chasing her…and a long hallway...and…

"I was starting to think you weren't going to wake up," a familiar voice teased her, and her eyes darted up, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing.

"Liam?" She frowned in confusion. Her body felt heavy. Heavy chains bound her wrists to a filthy wall, and bars boxed her into a small corner. She was imprisoned in a dungeon with no memory of how she had gotten there…and she was obviously delusional. "But…You're not real…"

"Aren't I?" He answered with a sad smile. "I have to admit, I was expecting a more enthusiastic greeting, seeing as you haven't been able to see me in a while. But since you're a little hung up at the moment I'll overlook it. Pun intended."

She tried to pull her wrist out of the cuff, but it was too tight and the metal was too sturdy. "Did you do this to me?" She demanded, her thoughts racing as she struggled to remember what had happened to her. "Let me go!"

"Why would you think that?" He asked, a wounded expression on his face as he approached her and took her wrist in his hand, making her stop before she hurt herself trying to escape. "You know me, Emilie."

"Why are we here?" Emilie asks hesitantly, instinctively looking around for weak places in their cage.

"What do you remember?"

"Having a drink with Hannah at a pub…is she ok?" Hannah was nowhere to be seen.

"Remember, Emilie." He whispered firmly, "You have to remember."

"Remember what?" She pushes impatiently, "Where are we, Liam?"

A loud clang against the bars of the prison cell startled her and they both turned to see what had happened. A larger man with a thick beard of greying hair snarled at her. "Who are you talking to?" He growled menacingly. There was a mocking undertone in his voice, "There's no one here but you and me."

Emilie's eyes darted around the cell. Liam was gone.

* * *

Severus glowered down his nose as the class of third years sitting in front of him. He knew half of what he was saying was being wasted on them, and it would be reflected in the essays he was planning on assigning them after class. They acted like he was torturing them by forcing them to participate in such assignments, but they weren't the ones who would have to struggle through all of the sloppy handwriting in an attempt to see whether or not they had any clue as to what he was talking about. Which, usually, they didn't.

"Professor Snape, the book says that chopping the ingredients makes the potion more potent than it does when you crush them." A Gryffindor student objects smugly, as though he had just proven him wrong.

"The book is wrong. Five point from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn." Severus snaps at him right as a stack of papers flew off the desk behind him. He turned on his heel, hiding his surprise. All of his students had been in front of him and there was no wind that strong this far down into the dungeons. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and turned back towards the class. Before he could say anything else, his eyes landed on a man standing at the back of his class room with his arms folded across his chest. "Class dismissed." He says instantly, tensing as the students immediately rose from their seats and shoved their way out of the room in relief. None of them even glanced at the man at the back of the room, but Severus hadn't expected them to notice him. There was only one other person he knew who could have seen Liam, and he hadn't seen her in almost two years. Severus waved his wand, slamming the door as the last student filed out.

"What are you doing here?" Severus questioned instantly.

"She's in trouble." Liam answered, unfolding his arms and slowly making his way towards Severus. "And I trust you."

Severus lifted his chin, swallowing hard. There was only one person he could have been talking about. Liam wasn't his. He belonged to Emilie, and Severus had never seen him outside of her presence. He steeled himself, mentally preparing for the worst. If it was anyone else, he'd have turned them away in a heartbeat. He'd more than paid his debts during the final battle. He didn't owe anyone anything anymore. But it wasn't anyone else. It was her. "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

"I'm comin'! I'm comin'!" Scabior snaps irritably. He was still in a sour mood from being stood up the previous night. There was a first time for everything, he supposed, but that first left a bad taste in his mouth and he was prepared to take it out on whoever had dared to obnoxiously knock on his door even though he had obviously been ignoring them the first three times they'd done it. "Stop bangin' on my door!" He adds as he throws the door open.

"Perhaps if you would bother to answer it I wouldn't have had to waste so much time doing so." Severus snaps back. He was in no mood for the snatcher's attitude. He turned to Liam in annoyance, "Are you certain you want him?"

"He's the one," Liam agrees simply.

"I still don't understand why. He's only going to get in the way." Severus objects, even though he knew it wouldn't do much good. Liam always had his reasons.

"Oy! I'm righ' 'ere. Do either of you blokes want to bother tellin' me wha' I'm supposed to be 'the one' for? Or can I go back to sleep?" Scabior interrupts impatiently.

Severus' gaze snaps towards Scabior and he tilted his head in a confused frown, "You can see him?"

"Course I can see 'im. I'm not blind." Scabior replies, glaring at them. "Wha' I don't see, is wha' you're doin' on my doorstep."

"Do you want us to leave, or would you like to know where Emilie was when she didn't come as promised?" Liam tempts him.

Scabior hesitates, "Who are you, mate?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Past

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_It was a small room with thick stone walls, simple furniture, and a tiny fireplace that cast a flickering light over the cot she was lying on. It was cold. She was shivering and she could see her breath as it froze in the air, but her skin was on fire. She flinched as the deatheater standing next to her cot pressed a vial against her lips. She turned her head away and attempted to sit up, gagging. The deatheater pressed his gloved hand against his shoulder. She wasn't tied down, and he wasn't pushing her back down, but his touch let her know that she wasn't going anywhere. _

"_Drink this," He ordered, giving her no hint as to what it was. _

"_No," She refuses, trying to push his arm away. He head was spinning from sitting up too fast, but she wasn't stupid. You didn't take random potions from deatheaters and live to tell about it. _

"_It wasn't a request. You can take it willingly, or I can force you. Those are your only options." He answers simply, grabbing her chin and forcing her mouth towards the vial. _

"_What is it?" She asks hesitantly. _

_He fell silent for a moment, his dark eyes studying her through the slits in his mask. "You have a fever," He answers finally. "And you're still recovering from spending so much time under the cruciatus curse. Drink. It."_

_She took the vial from his hand, weighing her options. It was more likely to be poison than anything that could possibly help her, but she wasn't going to be able to stop him if he decided to force her to drink it. She could probably break the vial on the stone floor next to the bed, but for all she knew, he already had another one ready just in case anything happened to this one._

_She presses the mouth of the vial to her lips and downs its contents in one gulp. She barely tasted it as it went down, but it left a bitter after taste in her mouth. Within seconds the burning in her skin faded, taking the dizziness with it. She shuddered, closing her eyes tightly. The deatheater too the vial from her hand and moved back towards the door of the room. _

"_Why?" She asks softly as her mind slowly registered what he had just done for her._

"_What?" He presses impatiently, barely turning to face her._

"_why are you helping me?" She asks, raising her voice so that there could be no mistaking what she was asking. _

"_Is that what you think I'm doing? Am I helping you? Or am I nursing you back to health in order to ensure that your present condition doesn't interfere the results of the experimentation that I could use you for once you're well again?" He points out mockingly, his voice dripping with poison._

"_What do you intend to do with me?" Emilie demands, her heart racing in fear. _

_He strode back to the cot and wrapped his hand around her throat, forcing her onto her back. "You were a gift to me from the Dark Lord. A reward for my loyalty and service. What I intend to do with you is none of your concern. Is that understood?" He snaps bluntly, sealing his words with a threat by tightening his grip around her neck. _

"_Ye-Yes," She stutters, struggling to breathe beneath his fingers._

"_Good," He lets go of her and strides out of the room, slamming the door behind him as she gasped for breath. Waving his wand across the doorframe, he wards it, ensuring that there was no way she could escape into the rest of his house._

"_You don't have to be afraid of her." A male voice tells him, calling out from somewhere down the hall._

"_I'm not," The deatheater snaps, narrowing his eyes and searching for the source of the voice. It wasn't one he recognized. If he could keep him talking, he could figure out where it was coming from. _

"_Is that why you frightened her before locking her in your guest room?" The voice points out easily, "I'm in your parlor, by the way."_

_The deatheater frowned at the intruder's attitude. It was presumptious for him to assume he could get away with breaking into a deatheaters house. He cautiously made his way down the hallways, expecting some sort of trap. Peering into the parlor, he finally spotted the intruder. A tall, slender man with a narrow face, slick black hair, and blue eyes that glinted at him even though the lights were dimmed. He had been sitting n the sofa, but stood as the deatheater entered the room. _

"_She's not going to tell the others what you have done for her. She won't get you in trouble with the Dark Lord."_

"_Who are you?" The deatheater demands impatiently. _

"_Just a friend." He answers, "Her friend. My name is Liam."_

_Her friend. The words echoed in the deatheater's ears, and he knew what he had to do. The man had obviously come with the intent of rescuing the girl. If he succeeded and the Dark Lord found out…and he would eventually find out…the Dark Lord would kill him for his moment of compassion. He had asked the Dark Lord for the pleasure of the kill, and instead he had healed her. No one could know. Whoever this man was, he couldn't be allowed to live. _

_The deatheater raised his wand, half hoping the man would register his hostility and disarm him. The intruder didn't lift a finger. He just stood and watched, as though he didn't expect him to actually use it. _

_The deatheater cursed under his breath before snapping, "Avada Kedavra!"_

_To his shock the death curse went straight through Liam as though he wasn't standing there and hit the wall behind him, leaving a dark scorch mark. _

_Liam laughed and shook his head as though the answer should be obvious. "You can't hurt me…Severus."_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Present

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Hannah was sitting back with her feet propped up on Emilie's desk, staring at the only photo that Emilie had ever bothered to bring to work with her. It showed two young girls dancing and playing in a small garden. It annoyed Hannah just to look at it, so she snatched it off the table and slammed it face down on the desk. The sound of the glass shattering echoed through the office, drawing everyone's attention towards her.

"Miss Hylett! Are you alright?" Her supervisor asks in surprise. He obviously hadn't seen what she had just done.

"I'm fine. My foot accidentally hit it and it fell." Hannah lies easily.

"Where is Emilie?" He questions curiously. Their supervisor was a short blonde man with big brown eyes set deep into his boney face.

"I honestly don't know, Mr. Ejiro. The last time I saw her she was drinking on the job. I tried to tell her it was inappropriate, but she told me to mind my own business and stormed off. I haven't seen her since." Hannah replies innocently.

Mr. Ejiro rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "I had a feeling there was something going on with her. Listen, Miss Hylett, I understand that Emilie is your partner, so this may be difficult for you, but there may be reason to believe that Emilie has been consorting with known deatheaters. I'm going to have to ask you to investigate her private life and find evidence to confirm my suspicions. You can start by interrogating her family. Do you think you can handle that?"

"It's going to be tough to separate myself from the fragile friendship I've formed with my partner, but I am dedicated to my job, Sir. If she has been corrupted, I will find out." Hannah could hardly contain her glee. She knew there wasn't actually anything to indicate that Emilie had been corrupted. Mr. Ejiro was just pissed at her because she had refused to sleep with him and turned him in for sexual harassment a couple of weeks ago. She was such a prude. If Hannah had been in her position, she would have used it to her advantage. Just like she intended to take advantage of her present assignment. She just wished Emilie could be there to watch her 'interrogate' her family. Unfortunately, her partner was a little 'hung up' at the moment.

Hannah knocked on the door of Emilie's house, plastering a worried look on her face. Emilie's mother opened the door, immediately becoming annoyed when she realized who it was. "What do you want, Hannah?"

"Emilie is missing. Would you mind if I came in to ask you a few questions?" Hannah asks pleadingly.

"She's not here. She's probably out screwing around somewhere, knowing her." Emilie's mother answers, showing no concern for Emilie's disappearance.

Hannah roles her eyes. Emilie ought to thank her for what she was about to do. "It's just standard procedure, Miss. May I please come in?"

Emilie's mother sighs, but stands back to let Hannah enter the house, slamming the door behind her.


End file.
